Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Croatia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Patti Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tres Demented,
Q65,
Lalann,
The American Breed,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
Aloha Tigers,
Jacques Brel,
Kas Product,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lower 48,
Easy Going,
Monks,
Depeche Mode,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Kenny Larkin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arcadia,
T. Rex,
Arab on Radar,
Erasure,
The Fall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ludus,
Cameo,
Lindisfarne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
The Pretty Things,
Magma,
Matthew Bourne,
John Cale,
Guru Guru,
The Evens,
Accadde A,
Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Youth Brigade,
Slick Rick,
Minnie Riperton,
Goldenarms,
Rekid,
Eric B and Rakim,
Severed Heads,
Stereo Dub,
Amon Düül,
Infiniti,
Cluster,
Reagan Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
B.T. Express,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Godley & Creme,
Soul II Soul,
The Martian,
Quando Quango,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.